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This is Part One of a planned Three Parter from the eyes of an original character from the story I'm working on. It's a reflection of all that's happened in his life that led him up the point where he is and how he changed from an immature boy seeing only his idol through rose-tinted glass, to the mature adult who sees her as the fallen angel and the world only in shades of gray.
I was born in a little village on the continent of Asize, technically in the Kingdom of Diamonte, but we were small and on the border and unimportant. We were, however, often visited by passing merchant caravans on their way across the Scar to the Southern City, and they were my very first encounter of those in the adventuring trade; but I’m getting off the subject. I was the son of the town blacksmith—the only son of the only blacksmith, who managed to specialize in weapons for the traveling exkenshers(1) so I became very well acquainted with weapons at an early age. By ten I was pretty decent with knives and could hit a bird in a tree twenty feet away, and could at least swing some of the lighter two-handed swords.
I was six when my mother died. It may be a creepy sadistic thought, but I’m glad that she died the way she did, meaning it wasn’t something stupid like choking on a chicken bone, or as mundane as childbirth: she was struck down by a wild stallion that a bunch of stupid little kids had the idiocy to harass and trap and then realized that the horse wasn’t going to take their shit anymore. My mother ran in instead to either calm the horse or get the kids, but a hoof struck her head and cracked her skull. I thought it was some huge horrible injustice that a bystander like my mother had to die while the boys who’d started it got out of it only with some chastisement; so for years to come I bullied them sneakily and mercilessly. Sometimes I think back and realize I was really bratty sometimes, other times, I remember fondly the time I stole their clothes as they were swimming and hung them on the town well.
Even after my mother’s death, my father continued to work and I was brought up in preparation to take over his life’s work someday. Now I’ll say this: I didn’t hate blacksmithing and I was fine with in my life while I was small, but I couldn’t imagine doing the same thing day in and day out until I died. I loved the way the weapons, especially the swords that my dad normally just repaired, turned out, and I knew then that I’d much rather employ the weapons than make them. Fortunately my father wasn’t blind, nor was he cruel, and for my thirteenth birthday he forged me a one-handed sword of my very own which I would spend hours and hours training with, and even took with my when I finally left the village. I was crushed when it became damaged beyond repair during a later mission, but my passions for the blade weren’t.
The event, which would decide much of my life for years to come, came when I was about twelve. Like I said, we got a lot of merchant caravans and such through our village and it was during one of these visits that I first saw her. She was Fuei Somatra, a half-elf half-Odessian(2) exkensher employed with one of the caravans. Long wavy blue hair, deep pupil-less azure eyes and always with a soft smile on her face, I fell for her as soon as she walked into my dad’s shop, hoping to get some armor (which she has long since stopped using) fixed. I remembered offering to walk her back to the inn. She accepted, complimented me, and I practically skipped back home.
The caravans stayed for a day and the night, and when I woke up the next morning they were getting ready to leave, and I took what I thought was my last chance to see Fuei. It wasn’t—by evening, only one caravan returned with only six survivors after being attacked, by monsters I think. Or maybe it was bandits, or maybe both; I don’t remember, only that I was elated that Fuei was spending more time in our town.
How did it all happen the way it did? It must have been fate, because thinking that it all may have been part of some huge elaborate plan, spanning across so many years…is scary. That everything that happened, all the hell Aina went through, the pain Rune endured, and, what happened to Maradar…it just makes my blood boil and want to reach out and SMACK something…!
The remaining six started out only planning to stay until another caravan passed through, but somehow ended up settling down permanently. My crush grew into an infatuation then into absolute idolization, which is how it would stay for nearly a decade and a half.
Fuei ended up being a waitress/maid at the inn, and I made-up an excuse nearly every day to see her, and by fourteen we’d established a relationship as friends. I loved and adored Fuei with every fiber of my body so much that her imperfections were totally glossed over—to me, and to very nearly everyone, she was perfect: kind, gentle, beautiful, funny, and powerful. She was a powerful sorceress even then and her skills only seemed to increase over the years I knew her.
Until eighteen, my entire life consisted of the forge and Fuei. That was when she finally decided to leave with another group of caravans when it made a pass to our village.
Age, they say, is supposed to bring wisdom, but from the moment Fuei walked into my life until Sid and Mir’r walked in, I think became stupider. When she told me she was leaving, it took my about 5.3 seconds to decide that I was going with her. I went home, packed my things, and snuck out without a word to my father. Thinking back on it now, I’m not sure why I did it like that—I’m nearly a hundred percent sure that he would have sent me off with his blessing if it was what I really wanted.
Either way, after eighteen years, I left my hometown for the first time with Fuei by my side, to set out as an exkensher.
TBC
(1)Exkensher-a term used in the world for those who meddle in all types of jobs such as adventurer, bounty hunter, mercenary-for-hire, explorer, and others.
(2)One of the five major races of the world of Panthea. Full Odessians are totally blind, but make up for this with their natural born psychic talents and illusionist abilities.
